


Lazy Mornings

by these_dreams_go_on



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst-Free, Bellarke, Eden - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Season/Series 05, Slightly Domestic Bellarke, happy bellarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 15:04:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14475258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/these_dreams_go_on/pseuds/these_dreams_go_on
Summary: Bellamy gets woken up by Madi and Clarke comes looking for her.





	Lazy Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before realizing how old Madi was at the time Clarke found her.

It was late autumn in Eden, the days still starting late and in the wooden cabins they’d built, with plastic sheeting for windows, the mornings started even later, with the light penetrating the eyes of the sleeping long after it had reached those on night shifts.

Bellamy hadn’t meant to sleep in, but without any immediate pressing concerns, it was all too easy for his tired body to lull him back down into dreamless slumber.

It wasn’t the sound of his door being pushed open that woke him, or the tread of boots across the wooden floor. It wasn’t even the dip in the mattress.

It was the scratching sensation of fingernails across his cheek, along his jaw and he opened his eyes to find himself staring up at an expression of smiling amusement.  
  


“Hey Madi.” he croaks, his voice rough and she smirks, resuming her tugging on his beard.

  
With Clarke as her only human contact for six formative years, Madi had unintentionally developed an idea of what humans were supposed to look like and scruffy hair on their faces was _not_ a part of that.

Bellamy still remembers her confusion and hilarity the day they’d met, poking at his whiskers and asking Clarke in trigedasleng what was wrong with him. For her part, Clarke had tried to explain how facial hair worked but somewhere between eyebrows and testosterone, Madi had started giggling, everyone else had started laughing and the whole thing had been declared a wash.

To his dying day, Bellamy would consider it grossly unjust that Madi’s only reaction to meeting Miller, Jackson and Kane had been shy politeness. He’d pointed out that they had beards as well, Miller’s was actually starting to get alarmingly long, but she’d only shrugged and said that they were supposed to have beards.

Bellamy had assumed that Madi had worked past his facial hair, but the way she was running her palm across it now suggested otherwise.

  
“It itches,” she declares, “And makes my skin red.”

  
There’s not really an argument he can make against that, and looking out his cabin window, he can see that it’s still pretty dark out.

  
“Is Clarke up?” he asks, and she turns her head to the wall where the rover is parked outside, as if she could see through the wood to where she slept.

“Nope.”

  
Clarke and Madi had been offered one of the first cabins built in the new amalgamated settlement but after Elgius had burnt down their home and their garden in the valley, Madi had clung harder to the rover and Clarke hadn’t wanted to force anymore change on her.

Still, Bellamy reckons that when winter came, Madi would be more accepting of the idea, especially if he could convince the council to let Raven make heating pans for the beds.

He reaches over and tugs up the blanket and Madi tilts her head in consideration, a movement so eerily similar to Clarke’s before she toes off her boots and clambers in beside him, letting him drape an arm over her shoulder and watching him as he closed his eyes.

  
“Go back to sleep.” He murmurs, and she sighs.

“Okay.”

* * *

 

Clarke was concerned about Madi.

Not her immediate safety, or her physical health or even her emotional and mental wellbeing.

It was her logic skills that were worrying.

Madi hated getting up early in the morning for lessons, she’d often feigned deep sleep to avoid them, but now, with their world having gone from two people to twelve hundred, she’d developed a different tactic.

She woke up before Clarke and found somewhere to hide so she could go back to sleep for an extra hour or two before Clarke could figure out where she was.

So, to avoid waking up early for lessons, she woke up even _earlier_.

The first time this had happened, Clarke had panicked, not being able to find Madi and half the camp had been searching for her when they’d found her curled up inside an old tree trunk a mile out.

Fortunately, with the onset of cold weather, Madi was less and less willing to stray far to avoid lessons and when Clarke woke up and saw her side of the bed empty, she knew exactly where she was.

It had been a process of elimination for both of them.

If she went to see Abby and Kane, they would simply start their day earlier, giving her lessons or putting her to work rolling bandages. If she went to see Octavia, she would be sent to train with Indra. Raven would already be awake and probably arguing with Zeke about something. Monty camped out in the greenhouse. Echo responded to uninvited guests in her cabin the way one would expect a former assassin to and Murphy and Emori lived on the very edge of the camp, past the guard rotation so Miller would know exactly where she was.

Bellamy on the other hand, was ten feet from their rover and had won Madi over within the first hour they’d met.

* * *

 

She doesn’t bother knocking, after all, if Madi was in his cabin, they would be expecting her. Besides, the door stuck slightly when opening so they had plenty of warning.

She ducks her head through, scanning the room and sees them in bed together, curled up under the blankets, Bellamy had a book propped on his knees and his tone, low and soothing, as he read to Madi filled with room with an air of contentment and peace.

They looked up when she entered, but otherwise didn’t react until she perched herself on the bed by his knees and her curled up legs.

  
“Bellamy’s giving me a lesson.” Madi protests, her voice muffled slightly from her position against his side and she gives him a deprecating smirk,   
  
“ _Right_.”

“The Iliad,” he explains, “Lots of important lessons in here.”

  
Madi shifts closer to Bellamy and Clarke takes the silent invitation, lying down next to her on her side and turning her eyes to him as he continued reading.

  
“Great son of Atreus, to my mind there seems,  
If we would ‘scape from death, only one course,  
Home to retrace our steps…”

* * *

 

“Is there breakfast?” Madi asks, still waking up from the nap Bellamy had lulled her into and he doesn’t need to look past her to see Clarke rolling her eyes in fond amusement.

“Probably not,” she teases gently, “We’ll have to starve til lunchtime.”

  
Madi props herself up on her elbows and gives a pointed glare to him and then Clarke.

  
“Are our people really going to let _Octavia’s_ brother and _Wanheda_ starve?!” she asks derisively and Clarke shrugs playfully,

“Some of Bellamy and my best ideas came on empty stomachs.”

  
Empty stomachs and desperation.

Madi’s eyes are narrowing and Bellamy knows that teenagers can go from teasing to tantrum in the blink of an eye if they think they’re being condescended or teased unfairly,

  
“Why don’t you go see Monty?” he suggests, “He’ll get you something to eat.”

  
Something healthy too, unlike Murphy who had gone through Elgius supplies, found things called artificial sweeteners and now every meal tasted like an impending headache.

Madi kicked back the blanket, stood up and walked across the bed, stepping over Clarke and dropping down onto the floor with a solid thump. She picked up her boots and padded to the door,

  
“Put those on!” Clarke called as she began tugging on the door,

“I’m serious, I don’t want you getting chilblains.”

  
The resulting sigh is loud and long-suffering but Madi pauses to slip on her boots, leaving the laces untied as she closed the door behind her.

Enough of a cool breeze filtered into the cabin that Bellamy thought he could get away with pulling the blanket back up, his hand brushing Clarke’s arm as he draped it over her body. He knows that even with Madi having disrupted her morning schedule, there was probably a long list of things Clarke could be doing, things probably more important than lazing about in bed with him.

More important to the camp that is, he personally thinks convincing her to spend an hour or two only a few inches from him is top priority.

She shifts slightly, back onto her side and tucks an arm under her head, and he has to try not to imagine waking up to her like this every day.

  
“Good morning?” she teases, and he grins, for the moment, warm, safe and content.

“Can’t complain.”

She hums knowingly, “How early did Madi wake you up?”

  
Clarke had told Madi that she wasn’t allowed into people’s cabins before or after certain hours, the concept of private property still relatively new to her, but Bellamy had been trying to impress on her the idea that his cabin was an extension of the rover, a place where she and Clarke could eat, change or store items if they needed. After all, there was no point building an entirely new cabin before winter if they could just add an extra room to his for the two of them.

  
So, he shrugs, “I don’t even know the time now.”

She huffs, but without any real anger or annoyance, “You spoil her.”

  
He did that too. As much as it was possible to spoil a child in Eden, he always made time for her, saved some of the best parts of his meals for her, helped her with her lessons or chores, and in general, let her get away with anything short of murder under his watch. He was her favourite person outside of Clarke and he saw the knowing looks people gave when they saw the two of them together, with their dark features they could pass as father and daughter and he took a stupid amount of pleasure in that.

Perhaps it’s the intimacy of sharing a bed with her, being physically close after having regained all the ground they lost in their six years of separation, but he finds himself willing to be emotionally vulnerable in a way he could never have been before unless facing certain death.

  
“I love her,” he admits, almost too easily, “She’s your daughter, Clarke, I love her.”

Her answering smile was as gentle and loving as he had ever seen from her, and she reaches over to cup his cheek, following her hand to brush her lips against his.

  
“She loves you too,” she responds, and a second later her eyes widen as she realises what she forgot to say. “And so do I.”

Bellamy can only chuckle and he pulls her close to kiss her, once, twice, by the third time they’re clinging to each other as if they have six years of love to work through.

At least until Clarke pushes him back with a wince.

  
“She is right about the beard though.”

 


End file.
